The Incredible Journey:
Riding unguided across Crete

By Danni Wittman

When I first set eyes on the Dikti Mountains above Crete’s Lassithi plateau their majesty took my breath away. With peaks in a blanket of swirling cloud, they towered above the green Lagada valley, dwarfing its white-washed villages.
Filled with excitement we made our accent to Avdou village set in the Dikti’s foothills. Just beyond, alone and peaceful on the hillside, was the charming Hotel Velani.
Far from the overcrowded, resort-strewn Northern coast, the interior of the island is unspoilt, rugged, and incredibly beautiful. Suffice to say, there is no better way to see it than on horseback, and in the sleepy mountain villages you will encounter the true Cretan ‘filotimo’– the famous Cretan hospitality.

My husband and I were riding the Unguided Lassithi Trail, 160km across Crete, over the Dikti Mountains and down to the Lybian Sea on the south coast, so close to Africa that its desert winds sweep the coastline, whipping up the waves on the beaches at Keratokampos. It had been a romantic dream of ours to ride this trail for our anniversary and we were finally here.
On our arrival, hosts Sabine and Manolis welcomed us and together we enjoyed a drink on the terrace overlooking the valley. From the terrace you can see the horses so it wasn’t long before we asked to meet our equine companions for the week. Eagerly we followed Sabine down to the stables, knowing our horses only by their names. Once introduced to Artemis and Hermes, the imminent adventure became all the more real. Artemis, my husband David’s horse, was a striking bay mare with lovely, intelligent eyes. In no time at all the two were grooming each other and looked set to get along very well! My horse Hermes was a beautiful 5 year old strawberry roan with the most gentle and affectionate disposition.

Over dinner Sabine took us through the route with the aid of a large map. The general idea would be to follow the blue arrows painted at every cross roads, but we had additional info on where to walk with the horses, water the horses and even suggestions on where was good for a nice canter or a picnic. We were to have 2 sets of saddlebags and every other day we would return to Hotel Velani while the horses stayed out on the trail. That night, though very well fed and pretty tired after a 2am start, we found it hard to sleep, so excited about the day ahead.

Mountain weather is unpredictable at the best of times, and we were pleased to see some shafts of sunlight glinting through the mist as we enjoyed a hearty breakfast early the next morning.
Down to the stables, we groomed and kitted out our horses and then they were lunged quickly to re-introduce them to all their baggage after a summer of lighter work. Both seemed full of beans and raring to go so without further ado we mounted and, with a cheerful wave, we were off into the unknown. Meandering down through the olive groves the trail begins with an incredible climb (1000m) through the impressive Gorge of the Gonies. The horses never tired, although on reaching the village of Kera, they were happy to have their lunch break in the shade of the olives after a large bucket of water each supplied by a friendly taverna owner. David and I indulged in a tasty meal of slow roasted lamb from the taverna’s wood oven and a couple of glasses of their rustic home-made wine (or Mythos beer in David’s case!).

Although we could have sat and admired the view for hours it was soon time to be off. Another mammoth climb and we were on the rim of the Lassithi Plateau with 360 degree views. Behind us, you could see through the gorge to Avdou, and beyond that, the sea. Ahead lay the Lassithi plateau, and the donkey path that guides you down. The donkey path was once the only route onto the plateau; it is very rocky and can only be negotiated on foot, leading the horses.  Once on the plateau you are greeted with the sweet smell of a dozen types of ripe fruit. We had fantastic flat ground roads ahead of us between the furrowed plots and plantations and the horses let us know they were keen on a faster pace. So without further ado I touched Hermes’ sides and we were off. Despite his young age he was a fantastic lead horse; ears pricked forward and leaping puddles, he cantered happily along the paths. We made our way across the plateau to Magoulas and taverna Dionyssos, our hotel for the night. We fed and settled the horses before enjoying a lovely hot shower. After dinner we went to check on them. It is always chillier in the mountains and rain was forecast overnight so in the half-light we rugged them up in rain sheets and wished them goodnight.

Next morning we were pleased to see the sun greeting us through the window. We headed east, allowing our trusty steeds a couple of windfalls, before our ascent into the Dikti continued. We entered the higher reaches of the mountains, some 1800m above sea level. I’m not sure what I expected, but where I thought I would find this atmosphere imposing it was actually liberating; to be alone in the wilderness, just you, your horse and nature, is an amazing feeling, and all around you the mountain is teeming with life –birds singing, insects humming, and the gentle lull of the goat bell. We found water for the horses in a large goat trough and while they drank we watched the Griffon vultures, part of the largest colony in Europe, glide effortlessly across the brilliant blue sky. After lunch we began our descent and return to civilisation, riding through small villages. The horses are a spectacle and everyone comes out to see them with smiles of pleasure. Whilst the horses stayed in Milliarado for the night, we returned to Hotel Velani and enjoyed a delicious dinner of fresh calamari, peppers stuffed with feta, and tender souvlaki, and not forgetting the famous house salad – a must for all who visit!

When we woke the next morning the heavens had truly opened. As we drove through the drizzle we suddenly saw a dramatic sight – a huge mountain of thick white cloud was running next to us, so fast it was overtaking the car. Manolis smiled and explained that this was the ‘Afoura’ and it was a good sign. His grandfather always said it was a barrier against the rain. He was right! When we reached the horses the Afoura had circled us and for the first time that morning, the rain had stopped. Quickly we fed, groomed and tacked up. Alas, no sooner had we mounted, the Afoura passed over and the rain began again in earnest. Within minutes David and I were soaked to the skin despite rain gear. It wasn’t cold though, and the horses actually benefited from the absence of strong sun. They were keen and on their toes so we were able to move quickly through the olive groves. Our belongings were tightly wrapped in plastic bags and we had rain sheets for the horses so we were well equipped. The weather was spectacular that day – great bolts of lightening and deafening cracks of thunder reverberated around the hillsides. We felt very small in this wet wilderness, but the sense of adventure heightened tenfold. In the village of Kato Viannos, the rain channelled by the steep, narrow streets created a river! But again, the horses never faltered, they marched on, un-phased by the meteoric deluge. We stopped for lunch in an olive grove and I reached into my pocket for our map. A great foam of watery white matter spilled out and a tiny fragment of map stuck to my finger. David and I laughed so hard we cried!

The rain eased as we mounted again, and once atop the hillside we looked down and there was the sea sparkling in sunlight! In that instant the rain stopped. In Keratokampos we fed the horses in their olive yard and put on their cosy rain sheets. That night we dined on succulent fresh fish right by the sea. The next day was the longest ride so we decided to have an early night. Around 3am David woke me, “did you hear that?” The wind was up and we listened in the darkness. Suddenly the shrill cry of Hermes could be heard on the wind, then again, more urgent. We threw our clothes on a rushed out of the hotel. My heart was thumping as we ran into the yard panicking at what we might find. As soon as he saw us Hermes was quiet. He came up to me and put his nose under my arm, hiding his eyes. David put an arm around his neck and Hermes just sighed and stood quietly. He was only a baby, this was his first unguided trek, and he’d been frightened by the wind. So we comforted him for a time, until he began to munch hay again, and then returned to the hotel. The sky was clear and the moon was so bright that night we didn’t need a torch. Unfortunately, on reaching the hotel, we realised that, in our rush, we had left the key in the room. We were locked out.

Needless to say, next morning we were quite tired! But the sun was shining brightly so we set off in high spirits. We rode along the sea and then turned inland, climbing up again. The views of the sea were stunning. As we left the sea behind us, we entered a dramatic canyon with a 2000ft drop down to the Anapodaris River. I must admit feeling a touch of vertigo looking down into the chasm, whilst goats skipped on the mountain above our heads. In the village of Skinias I asked a friendly-looking man for water for the horses. He filled a baby’s bath for them and while the horses drank deeply his wife came out with glasses of water for us and some delicious little cakes too! Time and time again we were struck by people’s generosity and goodwill. With a simple ‘Yaasas’ even the surliest of mountain shepherds would crack a smile and return the greeting. After lunch we had to pick up the pace and enjoyed many long, fast canters through the olive groves. Tired but happy, we met Sabine just outside Arkalochori, the biggest village of the ride. A long soak in the bath with a good book was just the ticket that night, and more delicious Cretan fare courtesy of Velani stood us in good stead for the last day.

The final ride was through scenic rolling countryside and again allowed for some speedy riding before we began our ascent back into the mountains. The horses were in high spirits, knowing they were nearly home. We stopped for lunch at a small church opposite an olive grove. The horses rolled happily while we ate our sandwiches and basked in the peacefulness. We pumped water for them from the adjacent well and then, back on board, we past the village of Lyttos and were on the home strait. Following the mountain paths with the Lagada Valley stretched out to our left, we enjoyed the last few tinkles of the goat bells. Hermes led the final canter home and as Velani came into sight both David and I felt sad that our epic adventure had come to an end. Hermes and Artemis had been our perfect companions on this trip. They both had an amazing work ethic, but also appreciated a cuddle and responded so well to praise. It was hard to say goodbye to them, but good to know they would now enjoy a well deserved rest.
For anyone wanting a really unique riding holiday you simply cannot do better than this trail. The freedom and responsibility of being alone in the wilds with your horse is unbeatable and it is certainly an anniversary we will never forget! All experiences are heightened when riding unguided and you finish every day with a great sense of achievement. It was a truly extraordinary adventure and I am so grateful to Sabine and Manolis that they should offer such a rare and rewarding experience.